


Practice Room Piss-Off

by thegrantfinale123



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Desperation, Friendship, Fucking, Games, M/M, Masturbation, Omorashi, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrantfinale123/pseuds/thegrantfinale123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Update:</b> thegrantfinale is going through some overhauls, so if you get confused or find mistakes, bear with me. Character's names have been changed.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Practice Room Piss-Off

**Author's Note:**

> **Update:** thegrantfinale is going through some overhauls, so if you get confused or find mistakes, bear with me. Character's names have been changed.

Thomas and I walked down the practice room hall in our college’s music building, passing by a bunch of rooms with the sound panels ripped off the wall and placed in front of the door, so people can’t see them practicing, or doing other things. We were in a very classy establishment.  
  
I walked up to one of the practice rooms that appeared empty. You couldn’t get into the rooms without scanning your school ID card, which was kind of cool, because then nobody could get in unless you opened the door for them. This also worked well for the people who were doing more than just practicing piano.  
  
I pushed open the door and Thomas and I walked inside and sat down at the piano. We had a performance of our duet coming up: one piano, four hands. It sounded pretty cool, but we still needed a lot of practice. Time flew, as it usually does when you lose yourself in your music. Eventually, after a runthrough of our piece, Thomas stood up. “Hey, man, I gotta pee.”  
  
“I kinda gotta go, too,” I replied, also standing up.  
  
Thomas groaned. “But the bathrooms are so far away, and I really don’t feel like packing up my stuff.”  
  
“Yeah, me either,” I pondered, then I got a sick idea. “We should have a holding contest.”  
  
“What?” Thomas cocked an eyebrow at me and backed away. “Nah, dude, that’s gross.”  
  
“What if we make it interesting?”  
  
“Interesting how?”  
  
I thought about it for a minute. How could I make this more interesting than it already was? The thought of Thomas squirming and desperate was enough to make my dick grow to a respectable semi. It was already interesting enough for me. But now I had to think of a way to get him interested in doing it. I searched through my backpack and brought out two water bottles, both of which I had brought with me to Thomashing band but neither of which I had drunk, because it was getting to the time of year where the weather was cooling down, so I didn’t need to drink as much. I sat one bottle at the end of the piano closest to Thomas, and one by me. “We both stay here, sipping this water, until one of us can’t hold back anymore. The loser has to do whatever the winner wants for a full week.”  
  
“Whoa, Aaron. Anything the other wants?” I nodded.  
  
“Within reason, of course.” Thomas seemed to relax a little after I said that.  
  
“Fine,” he said, picking up the water bottle and taking a swig. “You got a deal.”  
  
We continued practicing our piano piece, taking a sip of water at any point of rest in the piece. By the time we got to the third page, Thomas was starting squirm a little bit, and I constantly adjusted my junk in my shorts. I continuously made mistakes in the music, as I was too busy imagining Thomas getting more and more desperate, until he finally lost control and let loose a pool of golden pee into his jeans.  
  
As we went on with our practice session, I noticed Thomas messing up as much as I was, and he was constantly trying to keep his hand on his crotch, or as much as he could while playing. This was a perfect time to have a pee holding contest. You can’t hold your dick, because your hands are playing, you can’t cross your legs, because you need to pedal, and you can’t concentrate on controlling your bladder, because you’re concentrating on the music. We were head to head, neither one of us in good odds.  
  
I figured Thomas only agreed to this challenge because he knew of my tiny bladder. When we hung out, I used to go to use the bathroom basically every ten minutes or so. He knew I couldn’t last for very long in this competition. He was kind of right.  
  
We had been practicing for half an hour, and by now it was quite apparent that there was a little discomfort in our nether-regions. Thomas got up and placed the sound panel in front of the door. He said he didn’t want anyone to see us and potentially figure out what was going on.  
  
So our practicing resumed, Thomas now attempting to play six different notes with one hand and me softly groaning in discomfort as I played. When I turned the page, I felt a small jet of piss shoot out of my dick, and I quickly threw my hand over my crotch, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. I think the same thing happened to Thomas, because he quickly pressed down on his dick, now rock hard with a nice defined bulge in his jeans.  
  
After a couple more minutes, Thomas stopped playing altogether and pressed down on his crotch with both hands. “Sorry Nick,” he groaned. “I just can’t play anymore. I gotta pee too badly.” He winced, in pure pain now. He still had an obvious hard-on, as did I, and I stopped playing to follow Thomas’s example and hold my dick.  
  
We sat there, grimacing in pain as our bladders filled and pressed, an accidentally stroke of my boner sent tingles through my body, and I started slowly rubbing my rock hard member. Thomas took notice straight away.  
  
“Dude, are you jerking off?”  
  
“It kinda helps relieve the pressure.”  
  
“Don’t do that in front of me, that’s gross.”  
  
“Sorry,” I stopped stroking my dick. “It’s kinda hard, you know. I just gotta pee so bad, I’ll do anything to take the pressure off.”  
  
“I guess that just means that I win then.” Thomas winked at me.  
  
“Hell no!” I laughed. “You’re going down!” My threat seemed a lot less menacing when immediately after I groaned and doubled over.  
  
We continued like that for what seemed like eternity, Thomas and I doubled over, holding in our pee as best we could, slowly sipping from the water bottles, only adding to our torment, and me unconsciously stroking my dick, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. It seemed like we’d never get relief, until Thomas stood up as yelped, as I saw a long stream of piss escape into his jeans, leaving a dark wet spot on his crotch. “Shit!” Thomas cursed as he fought and eventually regained control of his bladder.  
  
“Ha, I win!”  
  
“What? But I still have it under control.”  
  
“But you did lose control, which was the terms of this agreement.”  
  
Thomas silently cursed under his breath. “So, now I have to do whatever you want, right?” Thomas was sweating, both from nervousness and from struggling to control his aching bladder.  
  
“Oh yeah, you do.” I winked at him, which only caused him to grimace with embarrassment and shame. Still struggling to control my own urine, I moved in closer to him, placing a hand on his wet crotch, which almost made him lose control again, as I felt another, smaller spurt escape his hard cock.  
  
I ran my other hand along his sides, releasing another small jet of piss, and slowly made my way up to his neck, planting soft kisses up to his ear, where I whispered softly, “Take off your pants.”  
  
With a whine, Thomas slowly unbuckled his belt, relieving some of the pressure on his bladder, and dropped his pants to his ankles, revealing a pair of blue plaid boxers, soaked with his pee, tenting out from his hard cock. He pulled his boxers to his ankles, and his solid member poked out at about 7 inches. I touched it and a small stream of pee splashed my hand, and I licked it off my hand. Thomas took off his shirt (and without being told to! He’s such a good boy!) and helped me take off mine. Our lips interlocked as I unbuckled my belt and let my own cock get some air. I broke the kiss, turning around and bending over. “Fuck me.”  
  
I felt Thomas’s pulsing, wet cock enter my asshole with a strong pinching sensation. He slowly thrusted into me, each thrust with a moan that I couldn’t tell if it was from pleasure or desperation. I slowly stroked my own cock, now also wet with precum and a little bit of pee.  
  
Inevitably, Thomas’s bladder got the best of him, and I felt a jet of hot pee escape into my asshole. “Ah, shit. I’m sorry,” Thomas cried. “I really can’t hold it anymore.”  
  
“Hold it as best as you can,” I ordered, but Thomas’s bladder refused to listen. With each thrust, another jet of pee found its way into my canal. “I really can’t,” he moaned, a larger stream releasing inside of me. “I’m sorry!” and with that, his muscles completely failed, and he simply let it flow inside my ass. It lubed his cock, and he continued thrusting, moaning with both pleasure and relief.  
  
Feeling his warm, wet juices inside of me, I struggled to keep my own bladder contained. I failed. I moaned as a strong jet of piss shot out of my dick, soaking the practice room floor. I strained to to keep the floor as dry as possible, but to no avail, as I emptied my entire bladder onto the floor. Thomas’s own piss joined mine as he reached orgasm and pulled out of my ass.  
  
“Jesus Christ, Thomas,” I panted. “That was fucking hot.” He remained silent. We were both covered in piss, and our clothes were soaked. I had no idea how we were going to get out of this one, and I could tell he was having the same thoughts. I got up and kissed him on the lips. “Let’s just wait here until the building closes. We can just chill here for a couple of hours, our clothes will dry, and then we can walk back to the dorms once everyone’s gone.”  
  
“Our clothes will still smell,” Thomas said. “I don’t want people to think anything.”  
  
“Just act like nothing’s different. Nobody will know.”  
  
He shrugged and sulked a bit. I kissed him again. “It’ll be fine.”  
  
“I guess, but what are we going to do until our clothes are dry?” But he already knew the answer, cuz my hand was already massaging his dick.


End file.
